Chapter 91: Unsecured network (5)

Part 10

“…So, why are you here?” I asked.

“You don’t think I’m here to steal your job, do you? Is there a problem?” Sihyun replied.

The new part-timer, due to arrive soon, was someone I knew—surprising, or maybe unsettling. Without explicit agreement, neither of us let on to Youngjin or his parents that we were acquainted. It seemed we both understood there was no need to reveal it.

I’d only quietly remarked, “Not a woman, huh?” and he’d replied, “Your good looks played a big part.” He then asked, “Since you’re my senior, mind chatting for a bit?” to which Youngjin’s teasing, “What, you two hitting it off already?” was brushed off with a laugh. Only now, alone together, did I feel ready to say his name.

“…It’s not about whether there’s a problem. It’s that there’s no reason that matters, right, Sihyun-ssi?” I said.

“I thought we’d gotten close, but seeing you face-to-face, you’re pretty cold. I’m hurt,” he teased.

“Kidding, right?” I asked.

“Kidding,” he confirmed.

In the break room, I pulled up a chair and sat, as familiarly as always. Sihyun grabbed one too, plopping down across from me. Faint noises from beyond the door suggested the three others had returned to work.

“You look like you’ve got a lot to say,” he observed.

The heavy silence in the room, unrelated to the bustle outside, seemed to stifle speech. But Sihyun didn’t seem bothered, his voice tapping my ears with a playful tone, as if saying, If you won’t talk, I’ll just ramble. He was still someone who lived on his own terms.

“…I’ve got plenty to say,” I admitted.

“Then say it,” he urged.

“Normal people weigh whether it’s okay to say something before speaking,” I said.

“Such a liberal arts thing to say,” he quipped.

“So you’re just carefree because you’re an artsy type?” I shot back.

His lips smiled, but his eyes were cold, locking onto mine. I figured my own expression, staring back, wasn’t much different.

“…Sigh. So, how’d you find this place?” I asked.

“You told me. The second time we met at the café,” he said.

I closed my eyes first. Asking a pointless question got me a predictably pointless answer. Did I really tell him that much detail?

Thinking back, even a vague mention of the location would’ve been enough for someone determined to find it. A question like, “Is there a non-chain bakery nearby?” or “Heard there’s a stunning beauty working at a bakery around here?” would’ve narrowed it down quickly.

“Okay, fine, you found it. But why take a job here?” I pressed.

“Thought I’d see your face,” he said.

“You didn’t think I’d just drop by sometimes?” I asked.

“We’d run into each other eventually, if I kept at it,” he replied.

My closed eyes snapped open in shock. What did I just hear?

“Why do you want to see my face?” I demanded.

“Your reaction’s milder than I expected. How do I get you to yell or show something new?” he teased.

“You’re not joking?” I asked.

The silence stretched. I could say with certainty that, despite our different genders, no purer platonic relationship existed than ours. I became a woman but can’t think of men romantically. He became a man but can’t think of women that way. Our bond was closer to same-sex friendship. So, “wanting to see my face” wasn’t a valid reason.

Instead of answering, he let out a soft laugh. His shrugging shoulders were infuriating enough to make me want to smack him. Determined to get a real answer, I clamped my mouth shut. As his laughter faded and the faint background noise crept back, Sihyun’s voice, now subdued, continued.

“But it’s true—I came to see your face,” he said.

“Are you a lesbian?” I asked.

“Wow. I take back asking if you were gay last time. This feels way worse than I imagined,” he said.

With some time before the shop opened, I wasn’t keen on dragging this out. I didn’t hold any hostility, but my feelings toward Sihyun leaned more toward pity or a sense of justice than fondness. Singing lessons and my normal life were separate. I didn’t want either to bleed into the other.

“Honestly, I don’t really know why,” he said.

“…What?” I replied.

“I don’t know why I thought to work here,” he clarified.

After waiting so intently for an answer, his vague response made my tensed brow slacken. His serious expression, devoid of any playful grin, made me wonder if I’d misheard. But he continued, as if my confusion was invisible.

“I gave up on throwing myself into some petty revenge. Felt like a waste. I could probably do anything, so why run myself into the ground like it’s some experiment to see how much I can take?” he said.

“…Dr. Kang already told me about that,” I said.

“But I realized I didn’t have anything I wanted to do. You know, this week, aside from meeting you, all I did was order delivery, shower, and sleep,” he said.

His expression was new—unlike the cynical smiles I’d seen before. It looked similar, yet drained, listless, tinged with an empty, unfinished quality. Not an angry cackle or resigned cynicism, but a hollow laugh. I suddenly felt I knew who it was aimed at.

“…I’ll be your friend, but clingy, obsessive types are kinda gross,” I said.

“Friends with you? Pass,” he shot back.

“Then why say that looking like that? It’s creepy as a guy,” I said.

“What part of what I said was creepy? You’re just projecting your weird thoughts,” he teased. “Pervert.”

“I’m a woman now,” I countered.

“Only when it suits you?” he quipped.

“…Ever done customer service? Weren’t you some rich heiress?” I asked.

“There are two kinds of work in the world,” he said.

I figured he didn’t have a clear answer himself. For someone with nothing left, all they need is something to care about. Giving them that means it’s all they have. Obvious, but I didn’t need to say it out loud.

To me, Sihyun was just that. To him, I was probably the same—a fleeting connection, worlds apart, briefly tangled by chance.

“Work I can do, and work I haven’t learned yet,” he said.

“Wow, you know you sound insufferable, right?” I said.

“Talented people always attract envy and jealousy,” he replied.

His usual playful grin returned. Strong enough to fight rather than give up. A shift in direction was enough. With that thought, I flashed my brightest smile.

“Cut the nonsense and get out,” I said.

“I’m not a part-timer yet. Do I need to go to work?” he teased.

“Whether you work or not, I need to change for my shift, so get out,” I said.

“Don’t you think this is backward?” he asked.